


Too Close

by OtakuLilyRose



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Martial Arts, Raijin Days, Sexual Tension, Shotgunning, Smoking, Sparring, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:00:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28299360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OtakuLilyRose/pseuds/OtakuLilyRose
Summary: A miserable summer day leaves Shizuo sweaty and frustrated, but when Izaya makes a surprise appearance in his after-school fight class, Shizuo finds that the heat between them might be more than just the weather.
Relationships: Heiwajima Shizuo/Orihara Izaya
Comments: 10
Kudos: 121





	Too Close

**Author's Note:**

> This story is dedicated to my Secret Santa, Kanra!
> 
> Merry Christmas Kanra! And Merry Christmas everyone else! I hope you all enjoy this story, even if it was a little bit rushed in the end because I had to get it done in time for Christmas >.<

He’d been angry all day.

The slow burn of irritation had woven itself into his skin, had been simmering just below a boil since Shizuo’d made the mistake of rolling out of bed that morning. Every brushed shoulder, every sour look, every chirpy voice had been winding his muscles so tight that by the end of the school day he felt nothing short of _furious_ , and all too eager to take that frustration out in the martial arts class his parents had agreed to dish out for once a week. 

He seldom sparred with the other kids; holding his strength back to such a degree gave him a headache, and the glares they sent his way every time he won a match certainly didn’t help. He mostly kept to himself, practicing the moves he’d been taught throughout the class and taking his anger out on the punching bags he went through like toilet paper. Every time one burst or broke the teacher handed him a roll of tape, and by now — barring the ones he’d ruined beyond repair — most of them were covered in the stuff. 

It was still mid-summer and the last six hours had been sweltering. As Shizuo walked the distance between his school and the dojo his classes were always held in, he could feel a sheen of sweat sticking his shirt to his back and prickling at his forehead. He trudged along with a grumble under each breath, looking forward to finally getting out of the sun and into an air-conditioned room.

As Shizuo came close to reaching his destination, the chatter of voices, louder than usual, drew his attention up from the ground beneath him. There were too many people; just from where he was standing he could see through the open door that the eight or so students usually making up his class had more than doubled. When he came close enough to finally enter the room and shuffle in alongside unfamiliar faces, he found the space was hot and humid, possibly even more so than it’d been outside.

“What’s going on?” He asked one of the classmates he actually recognised. The shorter boy sighed.

“We’re joining with the Friday class today,” He explained, “Something about cleaners coming in later during the week. Also, apparently the air conditioner’s broken.”

Shizuo grit his teeth. Was it too much to ask that for once his day got _better_ instead of worse? Apparently it was, because as Shizuo looked around the crowded room, almost choking on the heat of so many people trapped in such close, un-air conditioned quarters, he locked eyes with the absolute _last_ person he felt like seeing.

Izaya looked almost as shocked as Shizuo at first, his eyes wide and mouth parted on surprise, but where Shizuo’s surprised melted to a bone-deep feeling of dread and a scowl dark enough to make any sane person flinch, Izaya’s morphed into a wicked, toothy grin. The sight of it only made Shizuo feel _worse_. Muscles tense, he stood close by the door, caught between moving further inside and turning around to leave the way he came. After pulling his gaze away from Izaya’s infuriating smile, Shizuo took a deep, calming breath and hardened his resolve. He wasn’t going to be the one to run away from _his_ class, _his_ dojo, _his_ goddamn stress release, just because Izaya had decided to infest it like the irritating little insect he was. 

Shizuo pushed his way through the throng of students taking up the main area and placed his bag inside a locker. He’d already changed out of his uniform in the school bathroom before coming so all he had left to do was slip off his shoes and place them beside his bag. As the teacher began going through their warm-up stretches, everyone spread out to follow his instructions. Shizuo chose a spot on the floor as far from Izaya as he could possibly get without being out the door and went through the slow, calming motions of stretching out his body. He tried to keep his eyes from wandering, but every so often his gaze would crawl across the room and linger at Izaya, and every time — like he had a sixth fucking sense for other people watching him — Izaya would turn around to meet his stare and smirk.

“Alright,” Their teacher called once he’d finished running through their stretches. “Since we’re having a joint class today, I thought it might be a good idea to get a little competition going. We’ll hold two matches with half the class in each. You’ll pick a partner to verse, then winners will verse winners until we have one winner from each group to compete each other in the finals.”

Shizuo thought about sitting out, purposefully excluding himself as usual and practicing on his own. But he could feel Izaya staring at him from across the room, and Shizuo knew that if he backed down from the challenge he was sure to see in the other’s eyes if he just turned to meet them, Izaya would call him out on it later. _Shizu-chan’s too much of a monster to play with the other kids. Shizu-chan’s alienated by his peers and hated by them too._ And even if Izaya was right, the least Shizuo could do was _pretend_ to prove him wrong.

He’d win this stupid competition, and with any luck he’d finally have the chance to beat Izaya in a fight, fair and square. 

As everyone hurried off to find a partner, Shizuo struggled to find one of his own. He thought he must have had a permanent frown etched onto his face because people were keeping a wider berth from him than usual. He eventually found a quiet kid from the other class, one that looked lost and desperate enough to agree to partner with him. When it was their turn to fight he took care in holding back, focusing instead on perfecting his moves and giving his opponent a chance to practice their own. He wasn’t sure if he was being cruel by letting his partner think they might have had a chance when they really didn’t, but he convinced himself he was doing the right thing by not taking them out immediately.

He won his match, and the one after that, and the one after _that_. Each came with a dirty look from his opponent and a new layer of sweat sticking his shirt to his skin. By the time he was up to the last fight in his group, he felt hot, and uncomfortable, and was finding it hard to breathe.

_Stupid shirt, stupid summer heat, stupid fucking_ flea.

Shizuo used his strength to cut his last fight short, already wanting it all to be over so he could go back to his air-conditioned home. He turned to watch the other group finish up their last match, not at all surprised to find Izaya fighting there. He was good, Shizuo reluctantly admitted to himself; better than him as far as technique went, but his strength was no match for Shizuo’s own. Even as he watched Izaya take out his partner and pin him to the ground, Shizuo had no doubt that he could do the same without giving Izaya a chance to counter. 

Shizuo took a quick break for a drink before returning to the centre of the room where Izaya was waiting for him, the rest of the students and teacher standing around them to watch. As they readied themselves a few meters away from each other, Shizuo realised this would be the first time he and Izaya had the chance to fight in hand-to-hand combat. No knives, no lamp posts, just fists and feet and whatever else they had to offer. Izaya didn’t look scared, though. He looked smirky, and intolerable, and possibly a little bit excited. 

Shizuo clenched his fists in front of him, knees bent and feet spaced apart. He held Izaya’s gaze — glare as threatening as he could possibly make it — while he waited for their teacher to tell them to start. 

“And… FIGHT!” The older man called, and Shizuo took an immediate step forward to spin on one foot and swing the other through the air. Izaya ducked under it easily, like he’d seen the move coming before Shizuo had even decided to use it. Shizuo kicked again, this time jumping up as he spun around for even more power — but Izaya dodged it once more, twisting out of the way like this was nothing more than a dance he’d written the choreography for. 

Shizuo grit his teeth. Of _course_ Izaya was going to fight the way he always fought with him; by running away, by keeping his distance until Shizuo got so frustrated he lost all thought of technique and made some stupid, fundamental error. Shizuo wouldn’t fall for it though, not this time. He kept calm and focused as he closed in on Izaya, throwing well-aimed punches and swift, powerful kicks. Izaya couldn’t dodge them forever. Surely soon enough one of his hits were going to land.

But Izaya kept ducking and twisting and moving away, making no move to attack, only to defend. It meant Shizuo was too surprised to move when, after trying to kick Izaya’s feet out from under him, Izaya sprung forward with a kick to the centre of Shizuo’s chest — so fast, and so powerful, Shizuo stumbled backwards by a few feet. He barely had the time to right himself, to clear the surprise marring his expression before Izaya was diving to roll across the ground and land behind him. As Shizuo turned, Izaya’s foot met the back of his knee, buckling his leg and sending him to the ground. Both his knees hit the floor with an aching thud, and Izaya was coming forward still, spinning into a kick that only just whizzed past Shizuo’s face as he reflexively tilted back.

“Not the head, Orihara,” Their teacher warned. When Shizuo got to his feet, he found Izaya was still smirking, not looking apologetic in the slightest.

He steadied his stance and recentered his fists in front of his face, tracking Izaya’s every move with his gaze. The next time Izaya’s leg came forward, Shizuo was ready. And instead of ducking out of the way, he reached out and caught Izaya’s ankle in both hands, stalling his movement mid-air and blowing a hole in his balance. 

Izaya’s smirk was replaced by a scowl when Shizuo began to pull, drawing Izaya in until Shizuo could hook the inside of his elbow under the other’s knee. When he pushed, Izaya teetered back, instinctively grabbing at Shizuo’s shoulders to save himself from falling — but Shizuo went with him, letting Izaya hit the ground and pressing a forearm over the other’s chest to hold him there, one of Izaya’s legs still bent up and pinned between them.

Izaya struggled while the teacher began to count down. One of his elbows drove down into Shizuo’s shoulder again and again, but Shizuo ignored it — and when the countdown finished he finally went lax, admitting his defeat and sinking back into the floor. A pleasant sense of satisfaction began to swell in Shizuo’s chest, and he realised that this was the first time he’d ever really had his hands on Izaya, the first time he’d had him completely in his grasp. Izaya was breathless and red-faced, and suddenly Shizuo felt like he was much too close. He let one hand ease its grip on the top of Izaya’s bare thigh, and the other pull back from his chest. He stood quickly, blaming the heat for his own flushed face.

“Good job boys,” Their teacher said. Shizuo gave a non-committal grunt by way of a response and left to take a drink, all the while keeping his gaze intentionally averted from Izaya’s own.

With their last match over, the teacher declared class finished for the evening and students slowly began to filter out. Shizuo usually stayed back to help clean up — payment for all the shit he was always breaking — but today he wasn’t the only one. 

Izaya was by the far end of the room, taking his loss out on one of the punching bags and making no move to leave like everyone else had. Shizuo ’s jaw clenched at the dull thud of the other’s fists hitting soft pleather. He was getting ready to mop the floors when their teacher came out of the back room and headed for the front door. 

“I’ve got to go pick up my kids,” He said. “Will you boys lock up after you leave?”

“Um… sure.” Shizuo stared after him, watching the man as he hurried out the door and then closed it softly behind him. _Great_ , he thought to himself. _Now it really is just the two of us._

Shizuo ignored Izaya as he continued to clean. When he came back from packing away the last of the equipment in the storage room Izaya was stood in the centre of the main floor with his arms folded across his chest and a smirk playing at his lips.

“What?” Shizuo growled, meeting Izaya’s expectant stare with a scowl.

Izaya tipped his head to the side. “How about a rematch?” He asked.

Shizuo paused, a little surprised despite his best efforts not to be. He shook his head. “Class is over. You can’t just hang around here.”

“Ah, what a pity.” Izaya hummed. “Shizu-chan really is scared he’ll lose to me in a real fight.”

Shizuo scoffed in disbelief. “What do you mean a _real fight?_ That _was_ real and I beat your ass.” He quirked a brow. “Are you really that eager for me to do it again?”

“That wasn’t real,” Izaya argued. “I want a rematch with no silly class rules, no audience,” His smile pulled wider, “And no holding back,” He finished, holding Shizuo’s glare for a moment, for two, and then he turned away to throw a hand over his shoulder and breathe a disappointed sigh. “But if you’re too scared, I won’t force you, of course. That would just be cruel.”

Shizuo bit back the urge to ask why Izaya all of a sudden cared about being _cruel_ , and began to walk forward instead. “Fine,” He grit out, very much aware he was playing right into the other’s hands, but not at all willing to act like he was backing down. Besides, how often did he get the opportunity to beat Izaya bloody — no rules, no holding back — served to him on a silver freaking platter?

“Wonderful.” Izaya turned around, a satisfied smile pulling his lips taut. As he readied himself on one side of the floor a few meters away, Shizuo did the same, bringing his fists up and bending his knees. “Ready when you are,” Izaya called, and Shizuo began to move. 

He powered forward immediately, aiming a kick directly at Izaya’s throat — No rules right? — but the other boy jerked back and away from it. Shizuo wondered why he’d bothered to ask for a rematch at all if he was just going to play the same stupid game and dodge everything Shizuo threw at him without throwing anything back. 

It took ducking away from another two of Shizuo’s hits, and dancing around each other for a minute or two, but Izaya finally moved forward and sent a kick Shizuo’s way. Shizuo grabbed the other’s leg easily, just like he had last time, and had a moment to debate whether Izaya really knew how to learn from his mistakes. He pulled the leg forward again, trying to tip Izaya off balance, but this time Izaya put all of his weight on Shizuo’s grip at his calf, and used that steady hold to jump off his other leg and push his foot forward, kicking Shizuo square in the face with enough force to have him drop the other’s leg and stumble back.

“Fuck!” He spat, bringing fingers up to touch his aching lip and frowning at the blood he found there.

“Oops.” Izaya grinned. 

Shizuo wiped his hand on his shorts and raised his fists. Fixing Izaya with a determined glare, he continued to fight. They traded blows back and forth, Shizuo’s almost never landing. When they did — only clipping the other’s body instead of landing squarely — Izaya’s smile didn’t so much as flicker. In fact, his grin only spread wider the longer the fight went on, like he was having the time of his life, like he was having _fun_. Shizuo reluctantly admitted to himself that he might have been having fun too; there was no one else he got to try this hard with, no one else that gave him the pleasure of almost letting go. It was liberating, being able to give his all and not being worried his opponent wouldn’t be able to take it.

_Hell_ if he was going to tell Izaya that though.

As time went on, Shizuo found himself relaxing instead of tensing up, so much so that when Izaya got close enough to attempt a take-down, hooking his leg behind Shizuo’s to pull his feet out from under him and using what must have been all of his weight to push at Shizuo’s shoulders, he was caught so off guard he let Izaya tip him back. 

Shizuo hit the ground hard. Pain lanced its way through his shoulders and down to his tailbone. He barely had the time to grimace before Izaya was dropping to straddle his stomach and pin him to the ground. Hands pressing hard enough over Shizuo’s chest to make breathing difficult, Izaya smiled breathlessly. “What was that about beating my ass?”

Shizuo bared his teeth in a feral grin. Fast enough that Izaya had no time to stop him, Shizuo gripped his waist with one hand and his shoulder with the other before pushing to roll them and press Izaya to his back. He swung a leg over the other’s body to straddle his hips just as quickly as Izaya had done to him. When Izaya raised his arms to push at Shizuo’s shoulders, Shizuo took a wrist in each hand and pinned them to the floor above Izaya’s head. “What was that about being a cocky bastard?” He panted, dropping to sit his weight on Izaya’s lower abdomen when he could feel the other boy begin to squirm and struggle under him. 

“That’s not fair,” Izaya glared. “I had you down first.”

Shizuo shrugged. “I thought there were no rules?” He teased. 

Izaya huffed a laugh, bright and breathless. “I did say that, didn’t I? Very well, you win again Shizu-chan,” He drawled. Shizuo thought he might have sounded a little more condescending if his face wasn’t flushed as red as it was, if his chest wasn’t still rising and falling fast beneath him. Izaya’s skin was hot everywhere Shizuo could feel it — where his hands were gripping Izaya’s wrists, where his feet were touching Izaya’s thighs, where his knees were tucked into Izaya’s bare waist, his shirt riding halfway up his chest. 

They were too close again, the air between them, too heated. Shizuo was about to pull away when Izaya licked his lips and the thoughtless action stilled him, like he’d been caught in a spell of the other’s unintentional casting. He watched Izaya’s glistening mouth go softer than he’d ever seen it, and when he looked up, set on catching the other’s gaze with his own, Shizuo found Izaya wasn’t looking at him anymore, his lashes lowered and his eyes set on a spot somewhere below Shizuo’s own. 

Shizuo felt strange. He felt like there were a thousand volts of electricity sparking in the air, and if he didn’t force himself to pull away soon, he might get zapped. He made to do just that, releasing his grip on Izaya’s wrists and leaning back to sit up. He’d only pulled back by a couple of inches when one of Izaya’s hands shot forward to fist itself in his shirt and keep him from moving any further. 

Izaya was looking at his own hand with an unusual expression — conflicted, maybe, and possibly a little confused. Like his arm had moved of its own accord and he wasn’t sure why. Izaya didn’t pull him closer, or push him away, just held him where he was, halfway between the two. Shizuo could have easily dislodged the other’s grip and torn himself back, but he felt Izaya’s hold like it was another casted spell, depleting him of the ability to do anything but be still and draw a shaky breath.

Izaya’s lips pressed taut together, his brows furrowed, and the hand in Shizuo’s shirt tightened even further. If Shizuo wasn’t so completely aware of every place their bodies touched he might not have felt the tiny jerk of Izaya’s hand, but as it was, he followed the short pull like it was a demand, bending over and leaning closer until there was nowhere left for him to go.

They were close enough that when Izaya released a breath, Shizuo felt it gust warm across his mouth. Izaya tilted his head up, and Shizuo’s eyes went wide as the other’s lips grazed across his own — but when Izaya began to pull back, Shizuo closed his eyes instead, and tipped forward to press his mouth firmly against Izaya’s beneath him.

As close as he was, Shizuo could hear Izaya’s sudden inhale with perfect clarity. He felt one of the other’s hands come up to tangle itself in his hair and the other still fisted in his shirt pull him even closer. Izaya deepened the kiss immediately, sliding his lips over Shizuo’s with a hunger and a desperation that stole the breath straight from his lungs. When Izaya kept pulling, Shizuo had no choice but to give up supporting his own weight and let his chest press flush to Izaya’s own.

He didn’t know what he was doing, couldn’t gather enough coherency to form any kind of thought, and kind of reason as to why this was supposed to be wrong, why this was supposed to be a _bad idea._ There was just the heat flooding his veins to the point where Shizuo felt like he was drowning in it, and being this close to Izaya was the only thing keeping his head above water. 

Izaya’s lips were so soft and so warm. Pliant and pouty, they fit against Shizuo’s own like that was what they’d been made for. One forearm braced beside Izaya’s head, Shizuo let his other hand cradle the side of Izaya’s jaw and hold him steady for the press of his tongue. Izaya parted his lips wider immediately, letting Shizuo lick into his mouth and stroke his tongue against Izaya’s own.

Through the fabric of his shirt, nails raked their way down Shizuo’s back, and the hand Izaya had tangled in his hair was tight enough to keep him pressed close. When Izaya began to squirm beneath him, trying to pull his legs out from under Shizuo’s own, he only realised what the other boy was doing once his legs were wrapping around Shizuo’s hips and pulling their lower bodies flush together. As Izaya ground up, the erection Shizuo hadn’t even realised he’d had pressed hard against Izaya’s own. Shizuo broke the kiss the breathe a shuddering gasp over Izaya’s mouth. 

The way Shizuo ground his hips back down against Izaya’s was completely reflexive. He did it without letting himself think about, without giving himself the chance to stop and ask Izaya what the fuck they were _doing_. Because surely this wasn’t normal, surely this wasn’t _right_ , but Shizuo had to wonder how it was possible for something so wrong to feel so fucking _good_.

When Izaya’s hands moved to his shoulders and began to push him with a surprising amount of force, Shizuo was distracted enough to let himself be shoved up and back. Sitting back on his heels, he barely had a moment to panic about what might have been happening before Izaya was reseating himself in his lap and recapturing Shizuo’s lips with his own. 

Izaya could grind down with more force like this; and every time he did, Shizuo could feel his completely hardened cock pulsing hard against Izaya’s own. It was almost painful — the arousal shooting through him. Every slow rub of Izaya’s hips made him feel like he was burning up inside. He let his hands wander down Izaya’s back, and with a throb of particularly intense desire, let his hands grip the other’s ass through his shorts and squeeze. Izaya groaned against his mouth, hips pushing back into Shizuo’s obscene hold. 

Izaya’s fingers travelled down to pull the hem of Shizuo’s shirt up his chest, and Shizuo immediately let the other boy go so he could raise his arms and let Izaya pull the piece of clothing completely off. It was only as Izaya threw his shirt away from them, and Shizuo followed the path of the fabric with his gaze to watch it land on the floor beside them, that he had the space to think about, not so much _what_ they were doing, but _where_ they were actually doing it. 

Shizuo turned to look over his shoulder at the closed front door. It wasn’t locked, and there was almost as much possibility that someone might walk through it than there was that they might be left alone. He swallowed thickly as Izaya began to mouth at his jaw and down his neck, sucking and biting at the place where his pulse pounded in his throat. He swore his heart had never beaten this hard, and he was starting to feel a little dizzy from the force of it. 

With another rough roll of Izaya’s hips into his lap, Shizuo took one last moment to pray to whatever god, whatever deity, whatever higher being that might have been watching over him, to keep that door _shut_ , and turned back around to grip the bottom of Izaya’s T-shirt and pull it up over his head. 

Izaya’s hand immediately snaked its way down between their bare chests to grasp the outline of Shizuo’s dick though his shorts and squeeze it. The contact pulled an involuntary moan from Shizuo’s lips and made him buck up against the touch. He tilted his head down to watch with only a little bit of apprehension and a _hell_ of a lot of arousal as Izaya’s hand slipped inside his shorts and his fingers wrapped around heated skin. When Izaya stroked up, a long, slow pull of friction, Shizuo had to close his mouth on a whimper and let his head fall to rest against Izaya’s shoulder.

Izaya kept stroking, using the precum already spilling free to let his hand slide slick against Shizuo’s cock. Every so often he’d swipe clever fingers over the swollen head and make Shizuo’s hips jerk up into his grasp. Breathing hard against Izaya’s shoulder, Shizuo let his hands travel back down to Izaya’s ass, this time slipping under the other’s shorts and gripping soft skin. Izaya let a breath gust free and began to move his hand faster, slick, wet sounds coming up from the point their bodies met. 

When Shizuo felt like he was dangerously close to coming, and much too quickly to not be feeling embarrassed about it, he retracted his hands to close a hold around Izaya’s wrist and pull the other’s fingers out from his shorts. Before Izaya could voice a complaint or question either one, Shizuo gripped the other’s waist and tipped him back to press him down onto the ground. He ignored Izaya’s confused expression in favour of hooking fingers into the waistband of the other’s sports shorts and underwear and pulling them both down Izaya’s thighs and off his legs at once. 

Izaya’s cock, flushed dark red and curving up towards his stomach, bobbed free. Shizuo wasn’t really sure what he was doing; as per usual, he was just letting his body take the reins and tell him what he _should_ be doing. And right now it was telling him he should run his hands up the inside of Izaya’s pale thighs, push his legs apart, and bring his mouth down to press lips against that flawless, milky skin.

So he did. He kissed and bit his way up one of Izaya’s legs, over the sharp flare of his hipbone, and then up onto his stomach, until Izaya was breathing hard enough to sound like he was running a marathon and not just laying where he was, squirming under Shizuo’s teasing mouth and fingers. When Shizuo finally built up the courage to wrap his lips around Izaya’s cock, it pulled a ragged moan free from the other’s mouth. Inexperienced and a little unsure of himself, he used one hand to keep Izaya’s thighs parted wide and fumbled the other into a hold around the base of Izaya’s cock. He focused less on trying to bring the entirety of Izaya into his mouth and more on massaging the underside of the other’s erection with his tongue. When he pulled back a bit to suck hard at the head, a small burst of salty liquid bloomed over his tongue and Izaya’s hands shot down to make desperate fists of Shizuo’s hair. “ _Fuck,_ ” He hissed. “ _Shizu-chan._ ”

He did it again, hollowing his cheeks and taking more of the other boy into his mouth. Only when the muscles in Izaya’s stomach were tense, and the thigh in Shizuo’s hand started to shake, did he pull back and off Izaya’s cock with a wet pop, stifling the other’s whine and easing the fists in his hair by moving up to capture his lips in a fever-hot kiss.

Izaya kissed him back, frenzied and fierce; and after taking a moment to push his own shorts down over his ass and free his aching cock, Shizuo wound both arms around Izaya’s back and pulled him up onto his lap again with ease. Izaya’s hands immediately went to his neck, holding Shizuo still for the hungry press of his lips and tongue. When Shizuo slipped fingers down between their bodies it was to stretch his hand in a grip around Izaya’s cock _and_ his own, pulling up over silky, slick skin and sparking electricity down his spine.

Izaya broke the kiss to part his mouth on a moan and let his forehead rest against Shizuo’s own. His eyes were tipped down now, and Shizuo followed the line of his gaze to where the both of their arousals were sliding through the tight circle of his fingers. “ _God,_ ” Izaya groaned, back arching and hips pushing up into Shizuo’s hand. The sight of it set his body alight in an entirely new flame of arousal, driving him to flex his thighs and use what leverage he had from sitting back on his heels to thrust up into Izaya and the friction of his own fingers.

He was breathing too fast; as close they were pressed, and as much as his chest was burning, Shizuo felt like he was stealing the air straight from Izaya lungs and then giving it back to him again. Izaya’s nails were digging into the back of his neck, his thighs were tensing up where they were spread around Shizuo’s hips. “Shizu-chan,” He gasped, voice high pitched and breathy.

Shizuo worked his hand over them with more speed, gripping one side of Izaya’s hip with enough force he’d have been worried about leaving a bruise if he was currently capable of anything close to coherent thought. “ _Izaya,_ ” He groaned. “Shit, I’m gonna cum.” With one last drive of his hips and one last stroke of his hand, Shizuo squeezed his eyes shut as he came, hot, wet streaks of sticky spilling over his fingers and onto his wrist. He kept his hand moving through the shuddery aftershocks, until Izaya followed suit and jerked in his hand with a cry, the other’s release splashing onto his skin and mixing with his own.

It took moment for Shizuo to gather enough energy to pull his sticky hand out from between their bodies, and another handful of them to finally focus on catching his breath. Head tipped down and resting in the crook of Shizuo’s neck, Izaya went completely lax in his arms — unmoving, save for the now-slowing rise and fall of his chest. 

Shizuo used his clean hand to stroke a gentle path down Izaya’s curved spine, savouring the simple pleasure of having the other boy’s body against him for as long as the universe let him. He knew eventually he’d have to deal with the complications of pulling back, and cleaning up, and actually letting himself think about what they’d both just done, but he told himself it could wait. 

For now, he thought they both deserved to linger in the moment.

………………………………………

Shizuo wouldn’t have been so worried about avoiding Izaya if he’d have known Izaya planned on doing the same all day.

He saw no sign of Izaya in roll call, or through class, or even during morning break. And Shizuo wasn’t annoyed about it, he was _not_. Izaya falling off the face of the earth was a dream come true, and that sinking feeling he’d been nursing all day was just because he knew this brief respite wasn’t going to last. He was sure that had to be it. 

Probably…

At lunch, Shizuo found himself on the desolate roof of his school building. He sat by the edge of the wire fence, looking out over the school yard with a cigarette at his lips. It was still hot out, but there was a cool breeze blowing its way across the roof, ruffling Shizuo’s hair and spreading the ash from his cigarette over the concrete under him. 

He tried not to think about what had happened yesterday, but his brain had been playing the damn thing on repeat all day: the heat of Izaya’s skin, the soft of his mouth, the way he’d moaned when Shizuo touched him. Shizuo had woken up more than once last night fever-hot and covered in sweat, his dreams set on replicating his memories even if there was no way they’d ever come close to the real thing.

Izaya had ruined him — probably for good. There was no way Shizuo’d ever get those images of him out of his head. There was no way he’d ever not _want_ him.

It was a frightening thought.

Shizuo’d just taken another drag of smoke for his lungs when he heard the click of the door opening quietly behind him. He turned to look over his shoulder, only mildly surprised to find Izaya standing there. He watched him for a moment, and then he twisted back to blow a gust of smoke through the chain-link fence before him. He listened to the door falling closed, and the slow pad of footsteps as Izaya came closer. 

He kept his gaze ahead even as Izaya took a seat on the concrete beside him, stretching long legs out until his shoes were touching the wire fence. Shizuo didn’t know what he was supposed to say, or what he was supposed to do, so he continued to smoke in silence. 

“Smoking this young will ruin your health, you know?” Izaya finally spoke. When Shizuo turned to glare at him he saw the other boy was leaning back on the support of his hands and staring at Shizuo with a smirk painting his lips.

“Yeah?” He asked, taking another intentionally long drag with his gaze fixed on Izaya’s own. “Why would you care?”

Izaya shrugged. “I don’t,” He said, smile still wide even as Shizuo purposefully blew a lung full of smoke in his face. “Just thought I’d warn you.”

“Thanks,” Shizuo said, voice all but dripping with insincerity. He turned to look over the edge of the building again, cigarette halfway to his mouth, when Izaya’s hand shot out and plucked the burning stick from his fingers. “Hey!” He scowled. “Give that back.”

Izaya gave him a cheeky smile. “Okay,” He conceded, “You can have it back.” But instead of passing it over, Shizuo watched him bring the cigarette up to his lips and draw in a breath, the orange ember at the end of the stick glowing bright for a moment before fading to dull. Dropping the cigarette to his side, Izaya leant forward with his mouth closed on a breath of smoke and an eyebrow riding high.

Shizuo stared for a moment, confused as to what Izaya was doing, but then his gaze caught at the soft pout of the other’s lips, and when he lifted it he found the black of Izaya’s lashes casting his eyes to dark. Shizuo hesitated, caught between tipping forward and retreating back, but one slow blink, one tilt of Izaya’s head, and Shizuo gave in to the magnetic pull he could feel — the magnetic pull he’d _always_ felt — drawing him closer to Izaya.

When Shizuo’s mouth was barely a breath away, Izaya parted his own and let the smoke spill free. Shizuo drew it in, straight from Izaya’s lungs and into his own, the taste of it better than any cigarette he’d had thus far. Even when Izaya finished his exhale, Shizuo couldn’t pull away, he shifted the slightest bit closer instead, grazing his lips against the open part of Izaya’s before closing his eyes and pressing forward to deepen the gentle contact into a kiss. Izaya kissed back, slow and sweet; not at all like the hungry, claiming ones they’d shared the day before. 

It took a moment for Shizuo to open his eyes after Izaya pulled back. When he did it was to see Izaya staring at him with a satisfied smile. He watched Izaya bring the cigarette up to his lips once more and take a drag; for himself, this time, breathing it in and blowing it out with all the ease of a seasoned smoker.

“Here,” Izaya grinned, reaching out to offer Shizuo the cigarette caught between his fingers.

Shizuo blinked a couple times to clear the haze from his thoughts and reclaimed the stick from Izaya’s hand. As soon as he lifted it to his mouth, closing eyes as he fitted his lips to the invisible print of Izaya’s own, Izaya shuffled closer, sliding along the ground until their legs were pressed flush and he could tip himself to lean hard against Shizuo’s side. Shizuo stayed very still, half because he was afraid to draw attention to the burning in his cheeks, and half because he was afraid that if he moved too quickly he might scare Izaya off. 

Once only Izaya looked comfortable enough that he wasn’t likely to bolt at the sound of Shizuo’s voice did he finish letting out a breath of smoke and hand the cigarette to Izaya beside him. “Where were you today, anyway?” He asked, gaze fixed on a cloud in the sky ahead of them.

Izaya took the offered object and pressed it to his mouth. Only after taking another breath and blowing it out did he answer. “I had some work to do,” He revealed. When he passed the cigarette back it was with a cheshire grin Shizuo only saw in his periphery. “Aw, did Shizu-chan think I was avoiding him?”

“Seemed like something you would do,” Shizuo said, keeping his gaze averted as he smoked — slower, now that he wanted it to last between the two of them long enough to keep Izaya where he was for a while, 

“Mmm,” Izaya hummed. “Well, I wasn’t.”

Shizuo wasn’t sure why, but the clarification made his stomach flutter and his face burn; and he knew it had nothing to do with the heat of the day or the smoke curling up between them.


End file.
